


Never doubt I love

by irishlullaby13



Series: Never Doubt I Love [7]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fuck Canon, The Mills-Crane Clan, body issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: A day in the life of the Mills-Crane family.





	

Abbie stared at herself in the mirror, naked, blinking softly in disbelief at what was looking back at her. She could have handled a demon, mocking and laughing at her. She maybe could have even withstood her own image taking a life of its own and trying to pull her through to trap her in a weird parallel dimension. 

What she couldn't handle or withstand was seeing herself. The voice of the nurse practitioner at the doctor's office was ringing in her ears. The woman hadn't really meant anything by it, if Abbie thought about it the right way. The woman had seemed cheery enough when she made the off handed comment.

_“Dr. Chabner could help get you your flat belly back,” she had said. “I've heard good things about her work with women wanting to get rid of post-partum tummies that just don't want to go away.”_

Abbie had laughed it off at the time and made a joke about how her man liked her tummy extra fleshy. But now... now Abbie was staring at the gentle sag of her abdomen wondering. She had always taken the prerogative that she'd carried four children— _four_ children when they had initially only maybe wanted two, but because he loved her and she wanted two more and he had always wanted to big family, they'd had two more—of course she would have stretch marks and a small paunch... some loose skin here and there.

But then she remembered how, when they had first become lovers, Ichabod hadn't been able to keep his hands off of her and her, him. Then along came Grace Josephine. Things had slowed down, as could be expected when you were new parents, juggling a baby and fighting off the Apocalypse. Then they had Irving Mills—god they had argued over that one because Ichabod had wanted to name him Thomas and Abbie wasn't having it.

Considering Irving had come along quite by accident, the result of a quick romp between Grace's nap times. The change after Irving had only been slight, mostly because they were trying to be careful to not have another happy accident. Thankfully it had been a couple of years between Irving and John Benjamin. About a year and a half later, Sophie Grace had come along.

Although, Abbie could probably attribute all the problems with Sophie as to being why Ichabod was so hesitant with her—and why when she had decided to get her tubes tied she asked the doctor to burn them as well—she couldn't but have that lingering bit of self-doubt that maybe he just didn't find her attractive any more. The part of her that was certain that was not the case reminded her that neither of them were as young as they used to be and four kids could be very draining. Especially when the youngest one seemed to gleam joy from stabbing people with forks. But that other part, oh it was filling her head with ideas.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to get a little tip and tuck here, bit of lypo there... maybe give her breasts a small lift... Oh, and maybe they could do something about the dark stretch marks on her ass, hips, and stomach.

She looked up when some movement behind her caught her attention. Ichabod had entered the room, concern on his face. The concern faded away and turned to adoration. “Good Lord, you're so beautiful...” he said breathlessly. “Is everything all right, treasure? Sophie is prepared to mutiny if we do not eat soon. She's already taken a stab at Irving because he said we had to wait for the blessings, which cannot be done with out you present.”

Abbie felt a tiny smile tug at her lips. His hair was streaked with silver, laughter lines—as well as a scowl line—had become more prominent around his eyes and on his forehead. He strode over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind then nuzzled her cheek. “I was just...” she indicated the mirror.

“I find it vastly unfair that you have retained every ounce of beauty whilst I have become an old man,” he murmured.

Abbie pinched the tiny sag of skin under her navel. “Not every ounce... I have this...” she wrinkled her nose. She trailed her fingers over her stretch marks. “These...”

Ichabod covered her hands with his. “Evidence that you carried four delightful souls with you for a brief period... Well, three delightful ones and one cantankerous one that likes to stab people with forks.”

“You don't think I should... I don't know, go to a doctor to see if they can give me back the body I had before the babies?” Abbie asked.

“If that is what you desire and would please you, then by all means...” 

“I know what I want,” Abbie said with a sigh. “I just... You really think I'm beautiful, even though I have _this_...” she waved her hand over her midriff.

A soft kiss was placed behind her ear. “My darling, Abigail, rest assured, whenever I look at you I never see anything less that complete perfection. I see my partner through the tribulations. I see my lover. I see my beautiful bride with her succulent bouquet and baby's breath in her hair. I see the mother of my children. I see the woman I cannot wait to spend my final years with.” He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder for a moment then lightly grasped her hips and pulled her back against him. “I see the woman who is capable of inciting such desire within my _soul_ that I am tempted to rush the children to school without breakfast so that I may return home and make love to her before she has to leave for work.”

He placed soft kisses along the length of her neck and murmured. “Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt thou the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But _never_...” a kiss on her shoulder. “Never doubt I love.”

Abbie closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy the feel of his arms around her for a moment before reminding him, “They serve breakfast at school, you know. Just give them five bucks a piece and they should be good.”

“There is still the matter that they wish to bid their mother goodbye before leaving.”

“I'll grab my robe. I'll call in sick to work while you're dropping the kids off at school,” Abbie said quickly, Ichabod's brows arched with interest. “That's right... you get to have me all to yourself for the entire day.”

“I shall make the utmost haste to return.”

Ichabod hurried out of the bedroom. Abbie found her robe and pulled it on, tying it snugly closed before making her way down stairs to the kitchen were her darling husband was trying desperately to corral their four children. She stepped in and helped them don backpacks and fought one of the kitchen forks away from Sophie.

“But how will I protect myself?” Sophie wailed. “I need silver _just in case_ a werewolf shows up.”

“First of all, Sophie, this is flatware not silverware. There's a difference. Silverware would work, flatware would not,” Abbie said sternly. “Second, it's broad daylight. And the full moon is still weeks away. So even if your teacher is secretly a werewolf, you have nothing to worry about.”

The little girl's dark eyes grew large as saucers and she tried to object to being shooed out of the door by her father before Abbie could confirm whether or not her teacher was a werewolf. In the amount of time it took Ichabod to drop the children off and return off, Abbie had curled up around her pillows and fallen back to sleep.

She stirred when Ichabod slipped into the bed behind her and she huddled back against his warm nakedness. And like any couple with four children, who had loved each other dearly, they fell right to sleep and slept until lunchtime. Once awake, they lay in each other's arms giggling about events from their past—including how absurd some of the creatures they'd had to fight during the apocalypse had been (one of which had a striking similarity to a monster in an anime film that Abbie didn't necessarily like to admit she had watched out of sheer curiosity).

They made love, of course, somewhere in between giggling spells. But it was sitting on Ichabod's lap and letting him feed her fruit loops for lunch she enjoyed most about their day together. After another round of love making, they settled in together on the bed and watched cartoons until the principals secretary at the elementary school called to announce Sophie had asked to see a little girl's silver hair pin and then scratched the teacher with it. While that was cause for concern, their biggest worry was that Sophie said she did it to see if said teacher was a werewolf, and could they please come early to have a chat with Sophie's teacher and the principal about the odd behaviour.

Abbie and Ichabod were well accustomed to parent teacher meetings. They'd had several with Sophie's pre-school for similar reasons—all because her cousin Joey Corbin, Jr had once babysat and tried to scare the little ones into going to bed by claiming he was part windego and windego liked to eat small children that didn't go to bed on time. Needless to say they had never let Joey babysit ever again. While the older three had realized it was (mostly) a joke, Sophie had been paranoid about werewolves ever since. Mostly because her ass never went to bed on time and could often be found jumping on her bed, singing, at 3am instead of sleeping.

When this was explained to the teacher and the principal, they fully understood and tried to make sure Sophie understood that werewolves and windego and other monsters were not real—to which Sophie had narrowed her eyes at the principal and primly proclaimed, “ _That_ sounds precisely like something a horrific monster would say to put me at ease.”

Abbie and Ichabod managed to talk her down but the child still gave both the teacher and principal the 'I have my eyes on you' gesture before leaving. “She takes after you,” Ichabod grumbled.

Abbie shook her head and grinned. “Hate to say it, darling, but that's all Ichabod Crane right there...” she said, gesturing toward Sophie. “That is 100% Ichabod Crane reimagined as a five year old girl with pigtails.”

Ichabod sucked in a breath and gave Abbie a sidelong glance. He jutted his chin into the air and his left hand fidgeted as it swung primly at his side. “Yes, well...” he huffed. “I find it to be a very creative re-imagining and commend Hollywood upon its effort to shine a bit of diversity into the classic tale of Ichabod Crane.”

“You would,” Abbie laughed, rolling her eyes playfully.

After collecting the other three children it was dance class and karate class—which were thankfully next door to each other. Ichabod stayed with Grace and John at dance class, Abbie stayed with Irving and Sophie at karate (and if Abbie ever got thrown side long glances for quietly encouraging her babies to 'kick the other kids asses' she would never tell).

After dance and karate, it was time for dinner out—pizza because they didn't want to give Sophie access to forks in public. Once home it was time to get the children bathed and ready for bed...

“Yes, Irving, you have to wash _all_ of your body,” Abbie would groan. “No, John, you can't just brush your favourite teeth, you have to brush all of them... Grace... I'm so glad we have at least one perfect child. Just know that you are secretly my favourite.”

“Sophie put the forks back into the kitchen drawer immediately,” Ichabod would scold. “No, you cannot keep one in the zipper on the back of your bear... If a vampire wished to steal you away in your sleep, he would have to first be invited inside of the house... yes, even a lady vampire would have to be invited in... Regardless of gender identity or lack thereof, a vampire would have to be invited inside... Even if it were someone we already know and have given an invitation inside the house, flatware would still prove a poor weapon against them... No, Sophie, you cannot take the wooden _skewers_ to bed with you... No you cannot take the jar of garlic... No Sophie you cannot have a crossbow for your birthday... Perhaps when you're older...” And five minutes later he was stalking back to her room to retrieve a fork from the zipper on the back of her teddy bear, the skewers, and the glass jar of garlic because she had still somehow managed to sneak them to her room.

The two adults both collapsed face first onto the bed upon arrival, coming from their respective favourite side. They rolled onto their sides and grinned wickedly at each other. Abbie reached over and brushed his hair away from his face—he had kept it longer once it grew out but never quite long enough to do the roguish ponytail look he had been doing when they first met (although Grace did make a past time of giving him fancy up-do's for tea parties and such).

“I had fun today Mister Crane. We should make time for another day like this again soon,” Abbie said softly.

His eyes softened. “I've heard word about the Bureau that Master Reynolds and his lovely bride Miss Foster were considering a sleep over and pool party for their eldest daughters next weekend, beginning Friday evening and ending Sunday morning. Per Miss Foster, all four of our little delights have been cordially invited.”

“Hmm... an entire weekend to ourselves, whatever shall we do?” Abbie asked using her best Scarlett O'Hara voice, fluttering her lashes.

Ichabod murmured with approval. “Oh I think you and I are both very aware of the delinquencies we could perpetrate.”

“Sleeping in until noon?” Abbie asked.

“Oh yes...” he purred in response.

“Disney movie marathon?” Abbie suggested. “Without the kids asking fifty billion questions that can be answered with the phrase 'I don't know, magic'.”

Ichabod closed his eyes and groaned with approval. “I _do_ love the way your unscrupulous mind works, Mrs. Crane.”

Abbie pushed up onto her elbow and leaned over to brush her lips over his. “Not to mention... a few rounds of _chess_.”

He gave her that look he would give her when she had suggested something delightfully naughty. “You are positively salacious, my darling. _Chess_ at our age?”

Abbie arched a brow. “Well, we can't let the young people have all the fun. Can we?”

“Of course not,” he replied softly. He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I love you, my darling, Abigail. No matter what time decides to do to either of us, physically or mentally. I will consider myself fortunate to be at your side. And I apologize if I have, at any point, made you feel otherwise.”

“I know,” Abbie said quietly, resting her forehead against his. “And just know the same goes for me to you, too.”

A gentle press of lips led to delicate nips and kisses. The delicate nips and kisses probably would have led to something more if John's voice hadn't rang out. “Mooooooommy, Daaaaaaaaaddy... Sophie's jumping on the bed and not sleeping!”

They both groaned. “I got this,” Ichabod said. “Make your bedtime preparations.”

He crawled off of the bed and went to deal with their boisterous youngest child. Abbie hauled herself up and pulled one of her scarves from the night stand. After securing her hair, she disrobed and walked over to face her reflection. This time a small smile touched her lips. 

She ran her hands over the curves that had been made slightly fuller by the babies and her stomach. With a soft sigh, she decided, she was absolutely perfect the way she was. She was still admiring herself when Ichabod returned. Next she knew she was being swept off her feet and carried off to bed for something other than sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask... IDK why the youngest has a fixation with stabbing people with forks. I have a feeling she takes after her aunt Jenny.


End file.
